Instincts
by LastChancetoBreathe
Summary: Everyone in my family's been at this longer than I have, everyone knows better than me what they could do in these situations. It's hard enough to go at this as a rookie, but as a Reagan? It's twice the pressure. (Tag to "Moonlighting.")


I jump fandoms like a pirate jumps ships...or something like that. Anywho, I've been watching too many episodes of _Blue Bloods_ and there's just not enough Jamie to satisfy me. =) This takes place after "Moonlighting" because there was so much that could be said after that episode...the most pressing of which to me was that I think Renzulli would have had a thing or two to say about his rookie's undercover work if he found out. I realize that this is now an AU after "Some Kind of Hero," but humor me, this is fanfiction. =P

Also, I don't own _Blue Bloods._

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><p><em>Reagan never gets sick<em>, groused Renzulli as he pulled up to a coffee shop he and his rookie occasionally stopped at. Except today he was rookieless. Because the kid was sick and didn't even have the decency to let Anthony know himself. No, he had to learn it from a grapevine that trailed all the way back to the captain of the precinct.

"The kid better well be dying, making me pick up his slack," he continued to mutter to himself as he entered the shop. He wiped at the mist that had settled on his jacket and took his place at the end of a long line of sleep-deprived New Yorkers.

The typical shuffle-stop-check-the-phone pace of the line ran smoothly until it reached a man in a red hoodie three people ahead of him. Even from a few feet away, Renzulli could pick up the tension in the barista. She kept staring at her customer while trying to look like she wasn't staring. "What can I get for you today, sir?"

If her clipped tone wasn't enough to peak Anthony's interest, the man's soft reply was, "Just a small Americano, please."

He knew that voice anywhere.

He waited until the man paid and then moved off to the side before he stepped out of line. Renzulli snagged the man's arm, frowning at the small gasp the man let out. "Reagan, what are you doing here? I thought you were sick and now I find that you're out playing hoo-"

His voice trailed off as the man finally turned toward him, resignation in every line of his battered, swollen face. "What happened to you?"

"Sarge," Jamie grimaced.

"That's all you got to say? _Sarge_? The _captain _told me you were sick, your face looks like it met the business end of a bat, and now -"

Jamie tugged his arm free. "Could you please keep it down? I don't want to cause a scene."

"A little late for that, don't you think?"

"Sarge." The puppy eyes.

Renzulli had never been able to resist the puppy eyes. "Fine, but you're buying me coffee and we're going to have a long conversation about how we don't keep secrets from our partners."

A small smile tugged at Jamie's lips. He grabbed his Americano from the bar and slapped a five dollar bill into Renzulli's hand. "Fine. I'll wait at the corner table for you."

"Five bucks? What's that supposed to cover, you cheapskate?"

Jamie rolled his eyes...well...his one _good_ eye and headed for the corner.

It took another fifteen minutes for Renzulli to get back in line and come back with his mocha and a slice of pumpkin bread. He sat down, jabbing a finger in Jamie's face, "No smart comments about my diet. You're in enough hot water as it is."

"I wasn't going to say anything." But the smirk on his face said otherwise.

"Alright, kid, whose butt needs kicking, how often, and where can I find them?"

"Heh, you're going to have to get in line...and I'm afraid you'll be waiting a long time."

"How come?"

"You know how you noticed I had two phones?" Jamie hedged.

"Yeah."

Jamie twisted his cup around in its holder. "I've been working undercover in the Cavazarro family."

Renzulli choked on the sip he'd just taken and took a few moments to get his voice under control. He slapped his chest a couple of times. "You're doing what now?"

"Um...well...when we did that undercover work in the bars a couple months ago, I may have saved Noble Sanfino's life. He's...uh...the son of -"

"Yeah, yeah, I know whose son he is. And I'm sure OCCB jumped all over the opportunity that you afforded them." Renzulli stared hard at the kid, watching as a faint blush crept up his neck and onto his cheeks. A snort escaped him. "Only you, Reagan."

"What?"

"Only you could take a simple undercover assignment and turn it into a month-long operation with a crime family. I swear you attract danger like candy attracts kids. Didn't you have enough excitement with that whole Blue Templar nonsense last year? Why would you get involved in this?"

Jamie swallowed, grimacing as the motion pulled at the bruises on his face. "It's the right thing to do."

Renzulli rolled his eyes. "You Reagans and your moral high ground. You know, you don't always have to be the ones to take all the risks. There are plenty of dedicated officers and detectives who are willing and able to do the more dangerous assignments."

"Yes, but this one fell into my lap. The OCCB's been trying to get into the Cavazarro family for months. I didn't ask for this assignment, but I couldn't turn it away." The kid finally looked up, that stubborn set to his jaw that let Anthony know there would be no point in arguing the matter with him.

"You've gone Harvard mode on me, you know that's not fair." He shook his head. "Did you blow your cover?"

"No." A small hint of pride shone in Jamie's eyes, but it was gone the next moment as embarrassment took its place. "I got on the wrong side of one of Noble's friends. He suspected me of stealing information from him, so he gave me a beat down to make sure. He didn't find anything though."

"And what does your family think of this little side adventure of yours?"

Jamie winced again. "They...uh...know I'm undercover."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Don't give me that, kid, you're stalling for a reason."

"They haven't seen me yet."

Renzulli decided not to drink any further from his cup until he was certain he wouldn't be spewing it out at regular intervals. "You mean they don't know you got your face redecorated? Just how long ago did this attack happen?"

"Yesterday."

Anthony let fly some choice words. One look at the defeated expression on his rookie's face though and he knew that it was nothing that Jamie hadn't said to himself. "And why haven't you told them yet? You know your father's going to find out. Everything eventually gets back to him. I think it'd go over better if he heard it from you first."

Jamie looked down. "I know. I just..."

"You're killing me here. Just say what you want to say. You know I don't go spreading our little heart to hearts to the nearest willing ear."

The kid cracked a half-hearted smile at that. His hands kept worrying at the cup sleeve, bending back the cardboard crease and then smoothing it up again. If his lip hadn't been so swollen, he probably would've been biting it. Blue eyes met his again, pained and disappointed. "I know that this is what I'm supposed to do and every day on the job only convinces me further on that count. But I feel like every time I make a mistake, my family's waiting to pounce and tell me that I'm not cut out for this. Everyone in my family's been at this longer than I have, everyone knows better than me what they could do in these situations. It's hard enough to go at this as a rookie, but as a Reagan? It's twice the pressure. I wanted to do this right, Sarge. I wanted them to be proud of me, but every time I think I'm doing something good, I screw everything up."

Anthony leaned back in his chair, a little stunned at the sudden stream of words from his usually stoic rookie. Jamie held his gaze, looking for all the world like Renzulli held the answers to his problems. He sighed. "I wish I could tell you that I know exactly what you're going through, but I honestly don't. I'm the first cop in my family, probably'll be the last - it ain't exactly a popular job in my household. I don't know what it's like to be the youngest in a family of cops nor do I want to, but I can tell you one thing I _do_ know.

"This job ain't about who your family is or isn't. It ain't about what you could have done in a situation, it's about what you actually do. Anyone can talk about what ifs, but it takes a cop with good instincts to react well under the pressures of this job and let me tell you, Reagan, you've got some of the best instincts I've seen."

"You think so?" A hopeful note crept into his tone.

"I know so. Sure, you got a bit of a hero complex that tends to get you into trouble more often than not, but it helps you get a better grasp of the situation at hand. You've got more compassion than a lot of cops I know." He saw the look that Jamie gave him and hurried on in his explanation, "And don't let anyone tell you that's a bad thing! The world is full of cynical, bitter people. It's easy to be cynical, but that don't mean it's right. Don't let people talk you into thinking that cynicism is a realistic view of life.

"It's a lot harder to see good, to see beauty, to turn the other cheek instead of punching the lights out of whoever's done you wrong. And all those cynics who think you're weak for doing just that - they're just jealous they can't live that way too."

A small smile pricked at the corners of Jamie's mouth. "That was beautiful, Sarge."

Renzulli cocked an eyebrow. "You givin' me lip after that? See if I ever try to do anything nice for you again."

"I'm kidding! Seriously though," the kid got the somber blue eyes out - which were only a step above the puppy eyes in terms of Anthony's resistance, "thank you."

"What are TOs for if not to give their rookies a little pep talk every now and then?" Anthony paused. He was certain if he didn't word his next words carefully, the kid would clam up. He didn't want to get stoic Reagan back. "So...they pullin' you out now?"

"I don't know, to be honest. I thought so, at first, but now...I'm still getting phone calls from Noble and it'd be a little suspicious to completely drop off the map. Plus, the detective at the OCCB hasn't said anything about pulling me."

"And what do you think about this?"

Jamie dropped his gaze. "I'm...torn. On the one hand, it'd be nice to be done with living a double life. But on the flip side, I don't think I'm done yet and I hate feeling like I've left loose ends."

"Don't know where you got that from." Anthony tried to draw another smile from his rookie, but this time the kid didn't bite. He settled a hand over Jamie's fingers. "You keep tearing at that cardboard, you're not going to have a cup anymore and I'm going to have a mess on my hands."

"Sorry. I just...I'm ..." Jamie swallowed several times, as if the next few words were distasteful to him.

"Scared?" Renzulli guessed.

He didn't say yes, but his tight expression confirmed it.

"It's okay to be scared. Honestly, I'd think there was something wrong with you if you _weren't_ scared. Scared keeps you alive."

"It doesn't cause you to make mistakes?"

"It can," he admitted. "But you're a cop. Scared comes with the job and anyone who says differently is smoking something. It's what you do with the fear that counts. Don't let it paralyze you. You've done a damn fine job so far of keeping a level head. You're a good cop, Reagan."

"Thanks, Sarge."

Anthony was saved from responding by his radio squawking. He listened to the call and responded. As silence fell once more between them, he gave his rookie a stern look. "Just one more thing, kid, you get in over your head, you need help, you need _anything_, you call me...alright? No more of this silent treatment. I've got your back, okay?"

Jamie smiled and this time no tension marred the dimples that appeared. "Understood."


End file.
